Zephyr
by Imadra Blue
Summary: During a quiet night on the Phon Coast, Penelo receives a little weapons training from Fran and Basch. Gen.


**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy XII and all its characters are property of Square Enix Co., Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** Spoilers, particularly for anything prior to the party reaching the Phon Coast. Many, many thanks to Prydera for the timely beta reading. Written for 30 Fantasies.

. . .

If Penelo had been granted any wish at that moment, she would have wished to live on the Phon Coast, surrounded by clean white sand, a blue ocean, and a gentle breeze. There was salt in the air, but the moisture was startling. Even during the Rains on Giza Plains, Dalmasca kept little moisture in its air. But here, on the Phon Coast, the air was heavy with it.

"It's getting late," Basch called out as he gazed at the westward-bound sun. "We should stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we shall cross over to Tchita Uplands."

"Agreed," Balthier said, setting down his pack.

Penelo frowned and glanced over at Ashe. Though she was the princess and their leader, Ashe didn't make simple, common decisions like that. She hesitated too long. The party depended on her for their goals, yet the day-to-day leadership was often split between Basch and Balthier. Penelo wished Ashe had a bit more confidence in herself. If Ashe was ever to be Queen of Dalmasca, she should at least decide when they made camp once in a while.

Ashe, as usual, simply nodded in agreement with Basch and Balthier. She set down her pack by a rock and started rummaging through it. After a moment, she pulled out a comb and tried to fix her hair—it was a lost cause, for Ashe's hair was not very princess-like. The movement caught Balthier's eye. Something else Ashe never seemed to notice. And what a scandal it would be if she did! A princess and a sky pirate… It would be romantic, at least. Penelo decided to keep a closer eye on Ashe and Balthier as they traveled on. They seemed to grow a little closer every day, and Fran never seemed to care.

"Hey, Penelo, aren't you going to set down your pack?" Vaan asked. Despite his question, his eyes were, predictably, fixed on Balthier. Though he was always at Penelo's side, it was Balthier who commanded his true attention. Balthier was certainly handsome, but Penelo knew—or at least hoped—it had nothing to do with that. Vaan's desire to be a sky pirate was not gone, and by watching Balthier, he no doubt thought he was learning how it was done.

Penelo set down her pack and sat down next to Vaan. He was strangely quiet. Since she was fresh out of ideas to start a conversation, Penelo watched the party go about making camp. Basch gathered rocks, and Fran drew a circle in the sand with her toes. Within minutes, Basch had set the rocks around the circle, and Fran had conjured up a small flame for their campfire. They exchanged a few words, and Basch started bringing out pots and their grill, while Fran walked further down the coastline, bow in hand. Penelo wondered what Fran would bring back for dinner.

"Hey, Vaan, do you think we should—?" Penelo turned to Vaan, but he was stretched out across the sand, fast asleep. That explained why he was so tired and so eager for her to set her pack down—he'd stolen her small pillow. She poked him, but he only mumbled and curled into a little ball. His pale blond hair hid his face, making him seem like a rather large child.

"Hmph," she said, crossing her arms. She looked around the camp again, quickly growing bored.

Balthier had already wandered over to Ashe, and they stood close to the water, talking quietly. Penelo yearned to know what they were saying, but she had the distinct impression it was none of her business. Since Ashe and Balthier were still in plain sight, she doubted they would do anything interesting, such as kiss.

Penelo wondered once again why Fran wasn't bothered by Balthier's friendship with Ashe. Were Fran and Balthier really just friends? Or did they have one of those loose sorts of relationships that one of Penelo's elder brothers had once had with his old girlfriend? Or did Viera not get jealous? Penelo knew better to ask, though. Her giant list of unanswered questions was destined to grow larger by the end of this quest.

When Fran returned with two giant piranhas, which she and Basch set about gutting and cleaning, Penelo approached. The work looked especially disgusting, but…

"Need any help?" she asked.

Fran cast a glance over at Vaan, while Basch smiled. "No, thank you. We have it."

"Oh." Penelo plopped down onto the sand and watched them work. She stoked the fire a bit and made sure the pans upon the grill had heated up properly. Blood spilled onto the sand by Fran's thigh, quickly covered by a gory mess from the inside of Fran's fish. The sand greedily sucked up the liquid. It was disgusting, but Penelo found she could not look away.

"It's not very often when a Dalmascan gets to enjoy the ocean," Basch said. He waved at the shore with his knife. A breeze rode past them, as if summoned by his movement. It carried with it the scent of salt, fish, and now blood. "Why don't you go swimming?"

"It's getting a little crowded over there," Penelo said, thumbing back towards Ashe and Balthier, who walked together along the shoreline. Balthier had picked up a few seashells, while Ashe dragged her bare toes through the sand. They walked close together, but not _that_ close. Penelo couldn't tell if they were flirting or simply talking.

Basch cast an alarmed look at Fran, but she did not even look up from her fish. She had the head cut off now and expertly began cutting the meat out. "They might not appreciate an eavesdropper," Fran agreed.

Penelo bit her lip to prevent herself from asking a question Fran that Fran might hate her for. Basch apparently felt the same and bent back to his task. Silence fell between them, broken only by the sizzle of meat as Fran tossed it into the pans. The glint of metal as Fran flicked her knife through the large fish reminded Penelo of a battle they'd fought only that morning, while leaving the Hunter's Camp.

"You were really good with that katana we bought," Penelo said, looking at Fran. "I've only just seen you with the bow, so I hadn't realized you knew how to fight with a katana, too."

"I've mastered many weapons. Please sprinkle a bit of those seasonings on the meat," Fran said, waving at some small packets of dried herbs and vegetables lying in the sand by their rations pack.

Penelo sighed and did as she was told. Basch started to add meat from the fish he was cleaning. The smell of blood and fish was burned away by frying fish and garlic. Penelo's stomach growled.

"Did you wish to learn how to use a katana?" Fran asked. "I could teach you."

Penelo looked up and grinned. "I would. I'm good with a dagger and the crossbow, but I wanted to buy a few new weapon licenses."

Fran added the last bit of meat and stood up. "Will you break out the bread and the cheese for this evening's fare, then?" she asked Basch.

"I shall tend the meal. A man knows his place when two women practice war," Basch said, smiling a little.

Penelo smiled back at him. He smiled so rarely, and she decided he needed to do it more often. It lit up his entire broad face and made him seem quite handsome. He was different from Vaan, so adult, so neatly made, so masculine. Penelo shook her head to free these strange thoughts. "Maybe when you're done, you could teach me how to use the spear?"

Basch dipped his head. "It would be my honor."

Fran held out a hand to Penelo and curled her long fingers. "Come, child." She pulled out her katana, a newly bought Murasame, and held it out to Penelo. Its long blade glinted in the waning sunlight. Penelo gripped the braided handle and brandished the weapon. She nearly fell over from the weight and realized she needed to hold it with both hands.

"The katana is a weapon made for battling wizards and creatures born of the Mist," Fran said. "It must be held with two hands. It does not do the damage that a great sword might, but it is swifter." Her voice was so rhythmic and exotic that Penelo decided she could listen to Fran tell her how to build an oven.

Fran held the katana with a reverse grip, but she adjusted Penelo's hands to hold the weapon normally. "A katana is not like a sword. It is a noble warrior's weapon, and its defense is an offense." Fran stepped back and pulled out a sword from their weapons collection. Penelo swiped the katana through the air.

"Your movements are jerky," Fran cautioned. She held up her sword. "You must move as the wind does. The katana is a graceful weapon. It is not meant for children."

Penelo frowned. "I'm not a child."

"No. But you are not a woman yet, either." Fran held up her sword. Framed against the setting sun, she seemed as if she were a silhouette of an ancient, long-eared goddess of war. "Attack me."

Penelo spun and slid the katana through the air. She already knew she was too slow, for her blade merely bounced off Fran's. The force of the blow shook through her arms, and she stumbled.

"The wind is fleeting and random, but once it sets its mind to travel in a certain direction, it will not stop until it is done. It may be gentle or fierce, but it will not be stopped. It will ride past Humes, Viera, trees, buildings, even mountains—nothing can stop the wind. Think of the wind as you fight, Penelo."

Penelo swung towards Fran again, picturing leaves fluttering and wind chimes tinkling. Yet, she was still too slow, and Fran's counter attack dropped her back onto the sand. Wincing a little at the sharp pain in her tailbone—she must have struck a rock—Penelo stood again. She held the katana before her and eyed her opponent. Fran was so cool and obviously at ease. And why shouldn't she be? She had been fighting long before Penelo had even been born.

Fran stepped forward, but Penelo had been fighting enough battles lately to learn to back off. She crossed blades with Fran and quickly disengaged, returning circling around the edges like a coward. Fran shook her head. This was not what the wind did. The wind changed its mind, but it never _stopped_ until it was done.

The wind was strong across the Dalmascan Westersand. It would whip across the desert, turning sand into a howling, maddened beast. Penelo remembered its fury as they had crossed the Westersand. She brought up her katana again, picturing the sandstorms. She moved her blade as the sand had churned within the storm, striking at Fran with all her might. She struck once, twice, thrice, and—

—_clang_.

Penelo suddenly realized Basch was in front of her, his spear blocking any further attack from her katana. She blinked and realized Fran was sitting on a nearby rock, frowning at her hand. Blood dripped from her fingers onto the white sand; the sand soaked it up as greedily as it had the piranha's blood.

"Oh, Fran!" Penelo cried out, dropping the katana onto the ground. "I'm so sorry!" She rushed over and knelt by the Viera.

Fran smiled and pulled out a potion. "Hush. It is naught. It is my own fault, in any case. I underestimated your determination." She drank the potion, and within seconds, the bleeding stopped, replaced by a slight blue sparkle around her fingers. "Such trifles are to be expected during training."

"You do Dalmasca proud," Basch said. "That such a young maiden can fight so well on her first attempt…"

"My brothers taught me," Penelo said, trying to keep her wistful longing for them out of her voice.

"Your brothers were fine teachers." Basch handed her the spear. "Tomorrow, I will train you with this weapon. Tonight, practice your thrusts. But after dinner." He motioned back at the campfire. "The fish is done, and the cheese and bread cut. I even found some apples."

Penelo took the spear and grinned. "Thank you. I'll go wake up Vaan." She glanced at Ashe and Balthier. They stood together by the setting sun, their forms darkened by its brilliance. "Someone should tell Balthier and Ashe, too."

"I'll do it." Fran stood up. She sheathed both the sword and katana, then stared over at Balthier and Ashe. "I wonder if he fancies her," she said, then walked over to them. Her tone had been merely curious, not envious or hurt. An outright oddity for any woman who claimed to be a partner to a man.

Penelo exchanged glances with Basch. "Aren't her and Balthier…?" she asked after a moment.

"I'm… not sure. Are you and Vaan…?"

"Oh." Penelo's face heated up. "We've been friends since we were children."

"I see." Basch seemed a little smug. "Well, perhaps it's something like that. Or perhaps it's something different. Either way, I think I shall keep an eye on that sky pirate. Lady Ashe's virtue must remain… intact."

Penelo giggled, knowing full well what Basch meant. She had spent too much time darting around taverns, cutting purses, not to. "I think Lady Ashe can watch out for herself. Speaking of which… maybe you should let her make a decision, once in a while."

Basch raised an eyebrow. "She makes many important decisions."

"But not the little ones. And eventually, little decisions make the most difference. You should let her decide when we make camp tomorrow." Penelo tilted her head. "It'll give her practice for when she's queen."

Basch bowed from the waist. "Your wisdom matches your bladework, young Penelo. With a little experience, I think you'll become one of Dalmasca's finest citizens."

"Thank you," Penelo whispered, finding her voice had grown weak. She felt very warm on the inside. No one had ever really spoken to her like that. If it were possible to walk along the white-crested waves of the oceans, she surely would be doing that now.

"You should awake young Vaan. It's dinnertime." Basch patted Penelo on the shoulder and headed back to the campfire.

Penelo spent a moment basking in Basch's compliment, then skipped off to wake up Vaan, spear in hand. She felt a little older, a little taller, a little _better_. Maybe she was something more than a orphaned cutpurse, after all.

"What's that for?" Vaan asked, pointing to the spear when he woke up. He glanced around blearily and sniffed in the direction of the food.

Penelo glanced at the tall weapon in her hand and set it by her pack. "It's for practice. I just decided I needed a little more experience, is all."

Vaan stood up and scratched his smooth belly. He grinned over at Penelo. "Experience, huh?"

"Yes. Experience." Penelo linked her arms with his and led him towards the campfire. Everyone was gathered around, piling fish onto their plates, and perhaps it was just her imagination, but Fran's and Basch's smiles seemed a bit warmer than before. "Experience is important," she observed.

Vaan sat down and started piling his own plate with food. "So's food," he said through a mouthful of fish. Ashe frowned at him from the other side of the fire. Balthier leaned over and whispered something in Vaan's ears. His face reddened, but at least now he was chewing with his mouth closed.

Penelo laughed and glanced over at the ocean again. The sun had set, leaving behind streaks of orange and pink to light the darkening sky. Stars started to twinkle above her, and the ocean glittered like a magical potion under the climbing moon. The wind rode past her again, this time from the southwest—from _home_. It brought with it the smell of salt and the promise of rain that night. And though home was ever so far away, Penelo almost thought she could smell Rabanastre's spicy food, hear the musical jangle of her people, feel the warmth of the city streets beneath her feet, all on that zephyr.

If Penelo had been granted any wish at that moment, she would have wished to be back in Rabanastre, surrounded by friends, warmth, and familiarity. Instead, she remained at the camp and ate her dinner, knowing she was on this quest with Ashe and the others because Rabanastre was in danger. She would practice her spear thrusts that night, and she would practice with the katana again tomorrow. With all this experience, she could defend her home as a woman, not a child.

Like the wind, Penelo might change direction, but she would never stop until she was done.


End file.
